
?v v»v v-^y v»v 

v^> ^x/ifey y ^> *[yS 



■* ys.y v^sy y^y^.y • 



rje JJ©y<alisfs ot ^rerjrjessee 

ir) TCje JJetfe tfe/etp. 






A PAPER 



READ BEFORE THE OHIO COMMANDERY 



MILITARY ORDER 



Loyal Legion of the United States 

APRIL 6, 188 7- 

BY COMPANION 

WILLIAM RULE, 

(Of Knoxvlle, Tenn. ) 

Late Adjutant 6th Tennessee Infantry, U. S. Vols. 



CINCINNATI: 

H. C. SHERICK & CO. 
1887. 



V <£■ 



IN EXCHANGE 
JAN 5 - 1915 



THE 



Loyalists of Tennessee in the Late War. 



On the first day of May, 1769, a young farmer started 
out from the banks of the Yadkin River, in the State of 
North Carolina, accompanied by five stalwart hunters. It 
was about the time that the descendants of the Pilgrim 
Fathers in Massachusetts were denying themselves the 
luxury of tea rather than pay tribute to a tyrant king. 
About the same time the House of Burgesses was dissolved 
by the Colonial Governor of Virginia for having dared to 
pass resolutions condemning tire Stamp Act ; and Governor 
Tryon, of North Carolina, was serving his royal master by 
oppressing the patriots of that colony. The name of the 
young farmer was James Robertson, the founder of the 
first colony in Tennessee ; and one of the hunters who 
accompanied him was Daniel Boone, whose daring ex- 
ploits have been read by every school-boy and school-girl 
in the land. They went, as did the messengers sent out 
by Moses of old, to spy out a land beyond the distant 
Alleghenies, where they and those who sent them might 
live free from the restraints and oppressions of British 
rulers. A year afterward a colony was established beside the 
swift-rushing, limpid waters of the beautiful Watauga River. 
It was composed of men and women of heroic mold, filled 
with inspirations of patriotism, resolved that their abiding 
place in the wilderness, surrounded by savages, should be 
" Freedom's home or Glory's grave." The descendants 
of these patriots who thus fled from British oppression, and 
were the pioneers in the settlement of East Tennessee^ 
form the basis of my remarks this evening ; they have 



made honorable records on the battle-fields of every war 
in which their country has ever engaged, from King's 
Mountain to Appomattox. 

There were more than one hundred thousand wh'ite men 
in the Union Army from the rebellious States, fully thirty- 
five thousand of whom were from Tennessee. It is of 
these of whom I shall speak chiefly, because I know more 
of them ; though, in passing, I will not fail to pay tribute 
to those of other sections in the State, and other States in 
the South. Nor will I forget the thousands of colored men 
who enlisted from the rebellious States, and did gallant 
service for the Union cause on many a hotly contested 
field, and who demonstrated that a black skin is no barrier 
to manly courage. How to deal with the loyal contingent 
in the Southern Confederacy was one of the questions that 
gave the Confederate authorities a great deal of trouble 
from the outset. When voluntary enlistments became too 
slow to meet the exigencies of the Confederate service, a 
sweeping conscript law was passed ; and when its enforce- 
ment was attempted in East Tennessee, it drove five men 
into the Union Army to every one secured for the Confed- 
erate ranks. 

The people of this " Switzerland of America" were 
peculiar in many respects. Living, as they did, about the 
center of the border slave States, a majority of them were 
opposed to slavery. It has been stated — and so far as I 
know never denied— ^hat the first Abolition paper published 
in the United States emanated from a press in Jonesboro, 
in Tennessee. 

Among the first Abolition societies ever organized in this 
country were those of Eastern Tennessee. In the year 
1816 the Manumission Society of Tennessee held a meet- 
ing at Greenville, and issued an address advocating the 
abolition ot slavery. 

When Abraham Lincoln was elected President, and 
South Carolina and other Southern States proceeded in hot 
haste to sever their connection with the Union, Tennessee 



— 5 — 

was utterly averse to taking such a step. The secessionists 
urged that if the slave States would make a common 
cause, and go out of the Union promptly, the Government 
would not attempt coercion, and the secession movement 
would be carried out successfully. It was gravely insisted 
that the Northern people were too fond of making money 
to go to war; and if perchance they did make up their 
minds to fight, one Southern man would prove more than a 
match for five "Yankees." But a majority of the people 
of Tennessee were willing to at least wait until the new 
President committed some overt act that might afford 
something like a pretext for secession. 

The Governor of the State, however, was an uncompro- 
mising secessionist. He sent a message to the legislature, 
urging that body to provide for holding a convention for 
the purpose of passing an ordinance of secession, which 
was done. The legislature provided that while electing 
delegates the voters might at the same time say whether or 
not the convention should be held. As a result, the propo- 
sition to hold a convention was voted down by an over- 
whelming majority. In the counties of Eastern Tennessee, 
in an aggregate vote of forty-three thousand, the majority 
against holding the convention was more than twenty-three 
thousand. This was in February, 1861. But this did not 
satisfy the leaders of the secession movement, who had 
determined that they would not accept a negative answer, 
and that if necessary force should be used to drag the 
State out of the Union. They redoubled their diligence, 
and did everything possible to arouse the prejudices and 
the passions of the people. In April a blow was struck at 
Fort Sumter. Then came the sounding of trumpets, the 
rattle of drums, the Confederate recruiting officer in his 
bright gray uniform, and soon armed Confederate troops 
were marching upon the streets of the towns and cities. 

The Governor convened the legislature again in extra 
session, and sent in a lurid message, full of dire prophecy 
as to what was going to happen if the State of Tennessee 



— 6 — 

failed to cast her lot with her sisters of the South. That 
body, under the excitement of the hour, was induced to 
pass an ordinance of secession, without awaiting the for- 
mality of holding a convention composed of delegates 
fresh from the people. An election was ordered to be held 
on the 8th of June, which everybody knew would be a 
farce, as it was certain that the people would be over-awed 
by the military force of the Southern Confederacy. The 
election was held, and the State was declared out of the 
Union. The people of East Tennessee, still true to their 
principles and loyal to their government, gave a majority 
of twenty thousand against the ratification of the so-called 
ordinance of secession. The flag of the Union still floated 
defiantly over their homes, and they now sang " The 
Star-Spangled Banner" and other national airs with an 
unction they had never known before. 

Anticipating the result of this 8th of June election, a con- 
vention of Union men had been called to be held at Knoxville 
on the 31st day of May. That section of the State had been 
thoroughly canvassed, and the leaders had advocated the 
cause of the Union upon the stump, at the peril of their 
lives. This convention met just eight days before the elec- 
tion, when the town was full of armed Confederate troops. 
It was presided over by Hon. Thos. A. R. Nelson, then 
Representative in Congress from the First District. It re- 
mained in session two days, and adopted resolutions de- 
nouncing the act of the legislature in passing the ordinance 
of secession as a gross and wicked usurpation. It then 
adjourned subject to the call of the president. On the 
ninth day after the election it assembled again at Green- 
ville. On this short notice more than three hundred dele- 
gates, representing all the counties in that sectibn of the 
State, responded to the call and were present at the con- 
vention. While it was in session a regiment of Louisiana 
Confederate soldiers, known as the " The Tiger Rifles," on 
their way to " take Washington," stopped at Greenville. 
The commanding officer made a speech in which he 



denounced Johnson, Brownlow, Maynard, and other Union 
leaders as Tories and traitors. This only embittered the 
Union men toward the cause of secession, and made them 
more determined than ever. The convention adopted a de- 
claration of grievances in which it was emphatically declared 
that the result of the recent election, ratifying the ordinance 
of secession, was not binding upon the Union people of East 
Tennessee. Three commissioners were appointed to mem 
orialize the legislature for permission to form a separate 
State out of the counties in that section of the State and 
such other adjoining counties as might desire to co-operate 
in the movement. An election was also ordered to be held, 
at which delegates were to be chosen to a convention to be 
held at Kingston for the purpose of drafting a constitution, 
and taking the preliminary steps necessary to the formation 
of a new State. The date for holding the election was fixed, 
and it was ordered, but never held, for reasons that will fully 
appear as we proceed. 

The two months preceding the dates of these conventions 
were pregnant with stirring events. Personal collisions 
were frequent, and already blood had been shed and lives 
lost. On the 7th day of May, 1861, a Union flag was pub- 
licly raised in Knoxville, and a strong Union speech made 
by the late Judge Trigg. Charles S. Douglass, a courage- 
ous but indescreet Union man, became involved in a quar- 
rel with a Confederate major named Morgan. Morgan 
went away and armed himself. Returning, he commenced 
firing upon Douglass, who was unarmed, inflicting a slight 
flesh wound. Douglass was a dangerous man, and Morgan 
and his friends determined to get rid of him. The next 
day, two companies of Confederate troops were paraded in 
front of a hotel nearly opposite to were Douglass lived. 
He was attracted to the front of his residence, and while 
looking upon the soldiers, was shot down by the side of 
his wife, by some one concealed in an upper room of the 
hotel. A business man who resided in the town, in writing 
a private letter to a friend in New Haven the next day, 



— 8 — 

related the details of Douglass' assassination. The letter was 
printed in a New Haven paper with the name of the writer 
suppressed. It found its way back to Knoxville, and was 
republished in the local secession paper with bitter curses 
heaped upon the writer. The real author was suspected, 
and the first notice he had of the publication of his private 
letter was a deluge of anonymous notes coming to him 
through the post-office, filled with threats of vengeance. 
He is yet living, one of the leading business men of the 
South, and owes his life to the exercise of good judgment 
and a high order of courage in that particular emergency. 
His only offense was speaking the truth and calling things 
by their right names. These things are mentioned as a 
slight illustration of the condition of affairs in East Tennes- 
see at that time. 

In one month after the Greenville convention, the first 
battle of Bull Run was fought with its discouraging results. 
It served to arouse the people of the North to the magni- 
tude of the great rebellion. To the Union men of East 
Tennessee it was doubly disheartening Their leaders 
were being arrested on a charge of treason against the 
Southern Confederacy, and there was now no telling when 
deliverance would come, and the flag they loved again wave 
in triumph over their mountain homes ; but their principles 
remained unchanged, their purposes inflexible, and their 
devotion unwavering. 

About the first of August, 1861, they began to cross the 
Cumberland Mountains into Kentucky at points not guarded 
by Confederate troops, and to organize loyal East Tennes- 
see regiments. Among the first to go was Joseph A.Cooper, 
of Campbell County, who now resides in the State of Kan- 
sas. He became Captain of Company A, in the .First 
Tennessee Infantry. He was afterward Colonel of the 
Sixth Infantry. While marching with Sherman through 
Georgia, he was promoted to the rank of Brigadier-General, 
and at the close of the war he was a Major-General by 
brevet, in command of a division in North Carolina. In a 



few weeks the First and Second Tennessee Infantry were 
organized at Camp Dick Robinson, with Colonel R. K. 
Byrd commanding the former, and Colonel Carter the latter. 
By the first of the following April, six regiments of infantry 
were organized and in the field, two more were in process 
of organization, and three regiments of cavalry were par- 
tially recruited. 

Leaving the loyalists of the Southern Confederacy now 
already in the field, let us go back for a moment to their 
homes within the Confederate lines, and see what is going 
on there. On the night of the 8th of November, 1862, an 
event happened which startled the whole Southern Con- 
federacy. Three bridges were burned on the line of the 
railroad between Chattanooga and Bristol. In the language 
of one of the publications of the times, it was the work of 
"Lincolnite traitors," being a preconcerted movement en- 
tered into by East Tennessee loyalists, the purpose of which 
was to obstruct the transportation of troops to, and supplies 
for, the Confederate army in Virginia. The situation is 
described in a letter from Colonel Wood, commanding the 
post at Knoxville, to the Adjutant-General of the Confederate 
States at Richmond, who wrote : " The whole country is in a 
state of rebellion. They [meaning the Union men] must be 
punished, and some of the leaders ought to be punished to 
the extent of the law. Nothing short of this will quiet the 
country. * * * I felt it my duty to proclaim martial law, 
as there was a large majority of the people sympathizing 
with the enemy and communicating with them by the 
unfrequented mountain paths, and to prevent surprise and 
the destruction of commissary and quartermaster stores." 

When this report was made by this Confederate colonel, 
there was not a Union soldier nearer than one hundred 
miles of his headquarters. On the 12th of November, 1861, 
the day after Colonel Wood wrote that letter, A. G. 
Graham, a prominent secessionist at Jonesboro, wrote to 
Jefferson Davis, saying that civil war had broken out in 
Tennessee, and that the hostile element would " neither 



abate nor be conciliated." Speaking of the loyalists, he 
said : ' ' They look confidently for the re-establishment of the 
Federal authority in the South, with as much confidence 
as the Jews look for the coming of the Messiah ; and I feel 
sure when I assert it, that no event or circumstance can 
change or modify their hopes." He evidently understood 
the situation, and as a remedy he urged the Confederate 
President to take steps to send Union men north with their 
families, saying that, with their families there, they could 
do no great harm. 

This bridge-burning was wholly the work of civilians. 
Those who participated in it were scattered over a wide 
territory nearly 250 miles in extent ; yet they acted in con- 
cert, without betraying their secrets, except to a faithful few. 
The history of this event is imperfectly understood, and never 
can be fully written, for the reason that the parties who 
were engaged in it were pledged to the strictest secrecy at 
the time, which pledge was kept with remarkable fidelity ; 
and the additional fact that a majority of them are now 
dead. Every man engaged knew perfectly well that if he 
should be exposed and arrested, his punishment would be 
an ignominious death ; }^et what was done was without fee 
or hope of reward, solely because it was believed that it 
would advance the cause of the Union. As a result, five 
men were arrested by the Confederate authorities and hung. 
Many others were arrested on a mere suspicion that they 
had some foreknowledge of the act, and without the slight- 
est proof were cast into prison. Martial law was pro- 
claimed, and the Union people disarmed as far as possible. 
A reign of terror prevailed, and it really seemed as if the 
devil had been turned loose and was having everything his 
own way. 

I can never forget the Sunday evening following the 
burning of the railroad bridges. A rumor prevailed in 
Knoxville that a thousand " Lincolnites " were marching 
upon Strawberry Plains for the purpose of burning the 
bridge over the Holston River at that place. Then there 



was hurrying to and fro. The "long roll" aroused the 
soldiers in the camps, and soon they were marching double- 
quick to the depot, where a special train was waiting to 
hurry them off to the scene of action. Officers on swift 
chargers were dashing about the streets as if they believed 
that the safety of the Confederacy depended upon the 
celerity of their movements. With bated breath, brave 
men and fair women hoarsely whispered, " The Yankees 
are coming." But the cause of all this alarm and excite- 
ment was only a story, without foundation, that a few citi- 
zens unfriendly to the Confederacy were about to make a 
second attempt to burn a railroad bridge. A few days 
before this time, the late Wm. G. Brownlow, editor and 
proprietor of the Knoxville Whig, the last Union newspaper 
published in the Southern Confederacy, had closed out his 
paper, at the same time announcing that he expected to be 
arrested on a charge of treason. I was an employe in his 
office at the time. He had gone out into the country a few 
days before, and when the bridges were burned his name 
was frequently connected with the act, and threats were 
freely made as to what would be done with him if caught. 
On the eventful Sunday evening some of his friends held 
a consultation, and decided that he ought to be made 
acquainted with the situation. I,t was further decided that 
I should go as a special messenger to carry him the informa- 
tion. The edict had gone forth that no one should go 
beyond the limits of the town without a pass from the Con- 
federate authorities, to procure which it was necessary to 
take an oath to support the Southern Confederacy. Later 
on, one's conscience might have become elastic enough to 
take the oath with a mental reservation ; but I decided that 
I would not, and would go without asking permission. 
Through the kindness of Mr. E. J. Sanford, now one of 
the leading business men of the city, I was furnished with 
a small boat and a skilled man to row it. We embarked in 
the boat within a few rods of the rebel pickets, and rowed 
as noiselessly as possible across the Tennessee River, 



arriving safely on the other shore. At the home of Mr. 
Caleb Baker, a good Union man, I procured one of his 
best horses for my journey. Riding that night and a part 
of the next day through the mountains to Wears Cove, I 
arrived late in the afternoon at the home of Valentine Mat- 
tox, at the base of the Great Smoky Mountains, where I 
found the " Fighting Parson." During the day I had seen 
hundreds of farmers and their sons armed with sporting 
rifles and shot-guns, prepared to give a warm reception to 
any Confederate troops who might come in that direction in 
search of the bridge burners. I found Mr. Brownlow free 
from excitement, and seemingly perfectly indifferent to the 
threats being made against him. 

The eyes of the loyalists of East Tennessee had been 
turned longingly toward the Cumberland Mountains for 
two months, from which direction it was believed that the 
Union forces were approaching. The burning of the 
bridges was accepted as positive evidence that the day of 
deliverance was at hand. The Union men gathered in 
armed bands at various points. Near Chimney Top 
Mountain in Greene County, a regiment had been regularly 
organized. An armed Confederate force was sent out to 
disperse this regiment, and finding that the arrival of relief 
was delayed, the command was disbanded, and the men 
looked to their own' safety/each one taking care of himself. 
Most of them went immediately to Kentucky and enlisted 
under the three years' call in the Union service, while 
many were arrested and imprisoned. 

History furnishes no parallel to the manner in which these 
loyalists of the Southern Confederacy enlisted in the army 
of their choice. Their recruiting stations were not 
decorated with waving banners nor enlivened by the" soul- 
stirring strains of martial music. Like criminals fleeing from 
justice, they stole away from their homes, relying for pro- 
tection upon the friendly darkness of the night, their own 
strong nerves, sinews and will, and the mercies of an ever 
watchful Providence. In some mysterious way — one can 



— i3 — 

hardly tell how — the news would be whispered around that 
on such a time and at such a place there would be a gather- 
ing of those who wished to " go to Kentucky." The time 
was always after nightfall, and the place some secluded 
spot, removed from the frequented public highways. Then 
there was a day of busy preparation. Patriotic women with 
heavy hearts were preparing rations for sons, husbands, and 
brothers who were about to leave them, and upon whose 
faces they might never look again. When the sun had 
gone down behind the western hills, hasty good-byes were 
said, farewell kisses were imprinted on baby's cheek as it 
peacefully slept in its plain crib, perchance in the log cabin 
or cottage home, and hot tears expressed the grief of loved 
ones where language failed. Frail women, with burdens 
too heavy for mortal flesh to bear, were sustained, God only 
knows how. Then stalwart forms stole silently away, 
through forest and field, and a company of unconquerable 
spirits, whom the powers of the whole Southern Con- 
federacy were impotent to subdue, were on their way, 
seeking a place where they would have the privilege of 
fighting — perhaps dying— for the flag they loved, and for a 
freedom which was their proud birthright. If the history 
of these silent night marches across the valleys and rugged 
mountains could be accurately written, it would make a 
volume of more thrilling interest than was ever produced 
in fiction's most fertile field, and a story more wonderful 
than was ever wrought out by the liveliest imagination in its 
loftiest flights. 

My own experience as one of the "renegade Lincolnites " 
of the period is very tame compared with most others, but 
it may serve as a slight illustration. One beautiful evening 
in the early autumn I set out with six others, not knowing 
whether our destination was the Union Army or a Southern 
prison. One of the first obstacles to overcome was the 
Tennessee River. We got across by the aid of an old 
colored man whom we knew would not betray us. Cross- 
ing the valley west of Knoxville, we kept off the road until 



— 1 4 — 

we reached Beaver Creek. Here, to avoid wading the 
creek, we ventured to take the road for a short distance and 
cross over a bridge. The venture proved a dangerous one. 
After crossing at the bridge, we were passing through a 
lane, with a field of ripened corn on either side, when 
suddenly we heard a clattering of hoofs and clanging of 
sabres. Looking ahead, we saw a company of Confederate 
cavalry riding rapidly toward us. Jumping over the fence, 
we lay down quietly in the field of corn, and fortunately 
had not been seen. Our brothers in gray rode quickly on, 
much to our relief; for whatever may have been our inten- 
tion about fighting the Southern Confederacy, we were not 
ready to begin there, especially as we were unarmed, and 
the other side greatly superior in numbers. Before the 
dawn of morning we had reached what is known as the 
Bull Run Hills, on the north side of the creek of that 
name, and lay down in the leaves for rest and sleep. We 
traveled a part of next day, being careful to avoid the roads 
as far as possible, and to keep under cover of the woods 
when we could. Our next serious obstacle was Clinch 
River, the Confederate authorities having given orders to 
destroy all boats, canoes, etc., to prevent escaping Unionists 
from using them. Here Daniel Ridenour came to our 
relief. He gave us a good supper, which was greatly 
relished, and then set us across the river, two at a time, in 
an old canoe with one end knocked out, which the Con- 
federate authorities had doubtless concluded was too frail for 
practical use. It was a risk to attempt to cross in it, but 
one we took in preference to that of being picked up by the 
ever vigilant Confederate cavalry, and sent off to Castle 
Thunder or some other of the numerous Southern prisons. 
That night we crossed Powell's Valley in a cold rain; and 
then began to ascend the Cumberland Mountains above Big 
Creek Gap. Daylight next morning found us on the north 
side of the mountains in " the promised land," free from 
danger, and feeling that really and truly we were in "God's 
country." Often those who crossed went as many as two 



— is — 

hundred or three hundred together, in which case the suffer- 
ing and inconvenience was much greater. Many were 
overtaken by the enemy and some were shot down, their 
names going to swell the long list of martyrs to the national 
cause in the rebellious States. 

After the organization of the first two or three regiments 
of loyal Tennesseeans, recruiting officers made frequent 
trips into East Tennessee, carrying on their operations in a 
clandestine way. It was a hazardous piece of business, 
in which not a few lost their liberties, and some their lives. 
While on such an expedition, Captain Spencer Deaton was 
arrested. He was charged with being a spy, of which he 
was innocent, and taken to Richmond, where he was con- 
demned and hung. Captain David Fry took hundreds of 
men across the mountains, and spent some time in a Con- 
federate prison. Captain Shade T. Harris was arrested and 
kept in prison until he became a mere shadow of his former 
self. Seth Lea, an old man of more than three score years, 
was arrested while carrying mails from the soldiers to their 
friends at home, and was confined for more than a year in 
Confederate prisons. The list might be multiplied by 
scores. I myself had a brief experience as a recruiting 
officer in the enemy's country. It was in the fall of 1862, 
soon after General Geo. W. Morgan had been forced to 
retreat from Cumberland Gap, an event very discouraging 
to the East Tennessee soldiers in the field and to their friends 
at home. Starting from Louisville, Ky., after passing 
Crab Orchard, I traveled on foot to a point near Knoxville, 
more than one hundred miles, almost the entire distance 
after night. In about ten days after my arrival in that 
vicinity, the Confederate authorities having been informed 
of my whereabouts, a squad of cavalry was sent out to 
accomplish my arrest. While sitting in my father's house 
one afternoon, five of them rode up to the gate. A sister 
responded to their call, and their first inquiry showed her 
what they wanted, and at the same time that they were not 
fully posted as to the precise locality of their game. She 



— i6 — 

gave them a misleading answer, and they soon rode on. 
While they were talking with her, I wast hinking rapidly. 
Being well armed, I had determined that I would not be 
arrested to be taken to a Southern prison — perhaps to the 
gallows — without fighting ; and I was sure that in a fight 
the casualties on their side would be greater than on mine, as 
they were exposed, while I was under cover. Thanks to a 
sister's promptness in grasping the situation, and tact in its 
management, the test did not come. After being gone a 
short time, the Confederate soldiers returned and searched 
the house from cellar to garret ; but the humble object of 
their search had found it convenient to be elsewhere. The 
attempted arrest interfered somewhat with the recruiting 
scheme, but nothing more. I soon recrossed the mountains 
and rejoined my regiment at Murfreesboro, just after the 
battle of Stone River, fully satisfied to leave recruiting to 
others who might have a taste for .that kind of work. 

I have incidentally alluded to the private mail line estab- 
lished between the soldiers in the field and their friends 
within the Confederate lines. The recruiting officers often 
carried such mails. They were known as "pilots," from 
the fact that they piloted the Union refugees across the 
mountains. But some men made it a business, and often 
the East Tennessee soldier paid a greenback dollar note for 
carrying a letter to his wife, mother, or sweetheart in 
" Dixie." This would now be considered a high rate of 
postage, but the men who carried the letters earned every 
dollar they received. It was a perilous thing to do, and 
required the exercise of wisdom as well as courage. 

The day of relief came at last. In July, 1863, General 
Sanders, with a force of mounted men, crossed the moun- 
tains, and penetrated as far south as Knoxville. Consterna- 
tion seized hold of the Confederates — the Union men were 
greatly rejoiced. In the September following, General Burn- 
side, at the head of a gallant command, entered Knoxville, 
and there was rejoicing everywhere. Old men and women 
wept for joy when they once more beheld the flag they 



— i 7 — 

loved proudly borne aloft by men who were their friends. 
The name of Burnside is still held in reverence by a large 
number of people in East Tennessee, and up to the day of 
his death he had their sympathies in his every movement 
and aspiration. The sympathies and aid of these people 
were of great service to him when he and his troops were 
gallantly resisting the approach of General Longstreet to 
Knoxville, and especially when they were being besieged 
within the narrow limits of that city. Hundreds of the 
brave men who participated in that memorable campaign 
never saw their Northern homes again. More than three 
thousand of them sleep in the national cemetery at Knox- 
ville, and from the windows of my home I look out ever}' 
day upon the flag which floats over the sacred city of the 
dead, and see the white stones which mark the spot where 
their ashes repose, far from kindred and friends. On 
some of these the names of deceased patriots are inscribed, 
while others have lost their identity in the confusion in- 
cident to war, and their names are unknown. They were 
from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and elsewhere. These East 
Tennessee people have not forgotten that they died for 
freedom's cause, and in defense of their homes. On each 
30th day of May, following a beautiful custom, while the 
graves of soldiers everywhere in the Union are being 
decorated with nature's sweetest and choicest offerings, 
the people of East Tennessee leave their farms, shops, 
offices, factories, and counting rooms ; gather together on 
the spot where sleep the nation's dead ; and fair hands 
strew beautiful flowers upon the graves of the men who 
died that they and their children might be free — that the 
Government might be saved and the Union of States for- 
ever perpetuated. Though they sleep far from homes 
made disconsolate by their absence, they are nevertheless 
in the midst of friends, who take a mournful pleasure in 
paying tribute to their memory. 

No history of the great civil war is complete that does 
not contain a chapter devoted to the noble, patriotic women 



of America. One of our most popular American poets 
has said : 

"The wife who girds her husband's sword, 

'Mid little ones who weep or wonder, 
And bravely speaks the cheering word, 

What though her heart be rent asunde'r, 
Doomed nightly in her dreams to hear 

The bolts of death around him rattle, 
Hath shed as sacred blood as e'er 

Was poured upon the field of battle ! 
The mother who conceals her grief 

While to her breast her son she presses, 
Then breathes a few brave words and brief, 

Kissing the patriot brow she blesses, 
With no one but her secret God 

To know the pain that weighs upon her, 
Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod 

Received on freedom's field of honor !" 

When the first six regiments of Tennessee lo}^al troops 
organized, were compelled to turn their backs upon the 
homes they loved, and retreat from Cumberland Gap in 
the fall of 1862, it appeared as if all were lost. The com- 
mand under General George W. Morgan fell back to the 
Ohio River, and was for a few weeks on Ohio soil. There 
are hundreds of them yet living, who can never forget the 
cheering words of welcome and encouragement spoken, 
and the kind deeds done by the patriotic women of the 
Buckeye State. God only knows what the wives, mothers, 
and sisters of mon who braved the perils and hardships of 
war did endure. The sufferings and sacrifices of those of 
East Tennessee were beyond description. A majority of 
the men were plain farmers, and I know of instances 
where wives were left with from three to six children, for 
whom they not only made bread, but spun and wove the 
cloth for their clothing, and then cut and made it into gar- 
ments. This was kept up in many instances for two years, 
up to the time of General Burnside's entry into East Ten- 
nessee. After that the soldiers could send their money 
home to be used in support of their families ; before, it 
would have been in the nature of treason to use the green- 



— 1 9 — 

back money if they could have had it. It is no wonder 
that the approach of General Burnside with his boys in 
blue brought tears of joy to the eyes of so many thousands 
of these East Tennessee women. 

In a section where the people were divided upon such a 
question at such a time, bitter strife might of course be ex- 
pected, and fatal feuds. As a result, excesses were 
committed on both sides. Many thrilling stories might be 
told of the times, showing that truth is stranger sometimes 
than fiction. In the summer of 1861, it was generally 
rumored among the lo3 - al people that the goverment had 
deposited arms at Cincinnati, or somewhere in Kentucky, 
for the use of such loyalists of East Tennessee as might 
choose to enlist in the Union Army. Communication by 
mail with the loyal States had been cut off, so that there 
was no means of verifying this rumor except by a special 
messenger sent over for that purpose. A gentleman who 
afterward became a field officer in one of the Tennessee 
regiments decided to go and see for himself. He crossed the 
Cumberland Mountains one night at an unfrequented place, 
on horseback. The next morning, as he was riding down 
Elk Valley, now traversed by the Knoxville & Ohio Rail- 
road, he passed by a number of persons at work on the 
public highway. He knew some of them, and, stopping 
his horse, held a brief conversation. Most of them were 
Union men, but among them was one rebel, who grew 
insolent, and while not addressing himself directly to the 
gentleman in question, swore that if he could have his way, 
Union men riding about the country where they had no 
business would be "hung up to the lirnb of a tree." The 
hero of my story, who is a proud spirited man, was stung to 
the quick, and his first impulse was lo draw his revolver, 
shoot the man who had wantonly insulted him, and then 
make his escape to the Union lines. The Confederate 
troops were stationed near, and he quickly reflected that, 
while he could be easily revenged, others might become 
involved, and a whole community perhaps suffer. So he 



took no notice of the insult and rode on, but swore in his 
heart that time at last would " set all things even." 

His mission across the mountains was successful, and in 
a few weeks he, with hundreds of others, recrossed and 
entered the Union Army. He became adjutant of his 
regiment, which was one of the first organized. The follow- 
ing spring a detachment of his own regiment and two 
companies of Kentucky cavalry went over into Powell's 
Valley as a reconnoitering party. As they came upon 
Jacksboro, they surprised a detachment of Confederate 
cavalry, and charged upon them. Just the day before, he 
had come into possession of a strong and spirited horse. 
He started to charge with the cavalry, and by some means 
the curb-chain of his bridle was broken and his horse 
became unmanageble. He went dashing on, and was soon 
considerably ahead of the cavalry and rapidly gaining 
upon the Confederates. Two Confederate officers dropped 
behind, and the adjutant drew his revolver and began firing 
upon them. After firing four out of the six shots of his 
revolver at them, one of the officers, who afterward proved 
to be a surgeon, reined his horse aside, threw up his hands, 
and surrendered. Still pursuing the other, and his horse 
rapidly gaining upon him, he reserved his fire until, when 
only a few rods away, he took deliberate aim and fired ; 
but the officer rode on apparently unhurt. He had only 
one shot left, and he could see that in a moment he would 
pass the object of his pursuit, who would then have the 
advantage of him. So he made up his mind to reserve his 
final shot until in the act of passing the Confederate officer, 
when he thought he could make sure work of it. As he 
was about to fire again, he noticed blood running out of the 
officer's throat, and could see that he was seriously woundt d". 
And the strange part of the story is, he saw that it was 
Captain G — who had insulted him in Elk Valley less than 
a year before. The adjutant was avenged after the cir- 
cumstances had doubtless passed out of his mind. He is a 
brave man, and did what he could to make the last hours of 



his dying antagonist as comfortable as possible. But the 
story does not end here. He was promoted, and became 
major of his regiment. In one of the numerous engage- 
ments in East Tennessee, in 1863, he and a large part of 
his regiment were captured. He was sent off to Libby 
Prison in Richmond. He received orders one morning to 
report to the commandant of the prison. Obeying, he was 
asked his name and regiment, and on replying, was asked 
further if he did not murder Captain G — near Jacksboro 
in the spring of 1862. Being a frank man, he told the 
whole truth. He was sent back to his quarters, and never 
heard of the matter again. He is yet living, a leading 
business man and universally respected. 

Hundreds of Union men fell martyrs to the cause, as 
dear to them as life itself. Some were killed outright, 
while Thornburgh, Pickens, Trewhitt, and a score of others 
died in Southern prisons. At the end of the four years of 
terrible strife there was scarcely a household that did not 
mourn over a vacancy in the home circle, or the loss of a 
near and dear friend. The ugly wounds made by the 
hands of "grim-visaged war" in this section healed slower, 
and unsightly scars were visible longer, than in other parts 
of the country, where the people were either all for the 
Union or all for the rebellion. But, happily, the bloody 
chasm has been bridged over, and the men who wore the 
blue live fraternally with the men who wore the gray. 
Peace has come hand in hand with prosperity, and in this 
goodly land, which was the scene of so much strife, there 
are none left to color with rage or turn pale with fear, 
when it is said "the Yankees are coming." In those days 
every one who wore the blue was, in the vernacular of the 
period, a "Yankee." Not a few who went down there 
during the war remained with us, and many others have 
made their homes there since. At one time, many of us 
longed to see them come, while others stood ready to wel- 
come them "with open arms to hospitable graves." Now 
all want the " Yankee " to come, whether from the land of 



" baked beans," or from the great pushing, driving, rest- 
less Northwest ; and the more of him the better. The flag 
that he followed, thanks to his prowess, patriotism, and 
perseverance, is our flag, and his country is our country. 
Now, instead of the flashing flames from burning cottages, 
log cabins, and more pretentious homes, which lit up the 
hills and valleys of this " Switzerland of America," we 
can show a far more pleasing picture. We can show 
dense clouds of black smoke curling aloft from hundreds 
of smoke-stacks, that mark the location of busy manufac- 
turing establishments, the products of which are the con- 
tributions of the New South to the Nation's wealth. The 
sullen roar of artillery on bloody fields where hostile 
armies meet in deadly conflict ; the shouts of contending 
foes mingled with the rattle of musketry ; the ominous 
crack of the assassin's rifle and the shrieks of his victim, 
are sounds no longer heard. The music which now greets 
our ears every hour in the day and night is the shrill 
whistle of the locomotive, the ponderous blows of the trip- 
hammer, the clinking of the quarryman's drill, the rattle 
of looms, and the hum of thousands of spindles, making a 
grand melody which brings perpetual gladness to the 
hearts of the children of men. Time works great changes, 
and the people of whom I have spoken are perhaps losing 
something of their individuality, and becoming more cos- 
mopolitan in their character. Many who participated in 
the stirring events of the war period have gone into bivouac 
with the silent battalions on the other shore. As the years 
go by, others will answer to the roll-call of the pale mes- 
senger, until not one will be left to tell the story of anxious 
days and sleepless nights, and of that long deferred hope 
which maketh sick the hearts of men. 

But the events of this most eventful period in American 
history have been told time and again, around hundreds of 
firesides, and are still being repeated to youthful but ever 
interested listeners. The spirit which animated fathers 
and mothers in the trying times of the past, is impressed 



— 23 — 

upon the children ; and if in the future the flag of our 
restored Union should be insulted, or the liberties of the 
people threatened, strong men will be found in these 
mountain homes ready to respond to their country's call, 
to follow where duty leads, and to make any sacrifice neces- 
sity demands, in defense of freedom, justice, and equality. 



e? 7 



0.1 



